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Survivor of the Night

Black curtain of dead, will not follow me into the bedroom, today.
It will obey.

I could only see the doors.

At the doors stood a man
His smile told me everything
He was wicked.

The craziness of the whole situation,
Was clearly visible.

The man that stood at the door was death,
Looking into the eyes of a dead man.

The curtain moved in both directions, until, the man said its goodbyes

Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Review Request (Direction): 
What did you think of my title?
How was my language use?
What did you think of the rhythm or pattern or pacing?
How does this theme appeal to you?
How was the beginning/ending of the poem?
Is the internal logic consistent?
Editing stage: 
Content level: 
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Comments

A ghost like image of a person sometimes causes fear of death !

Onyinyechi Cosmos

you can tell a lot about a person from their smile, but it can lie just like the eyes. an interesting write. i like the title and the language usage was good. I like the plot.

*hugs, Cat

When someone reads your work
And responds, please be courteous
And reply in kind, thanks.

[his] instead of [its'] in the last line! ~ Geezer.
.

It seems that the days and hours that people
are available for chatroom are staggered and
not a good match for most everyone. How about
if everyone just shows up at the door, whenever
they have a few free minutes?

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